


Nothing left to pay

by Pebblesong7



Series: Bad things happen bingo [3]
Category: Chicago Med, Chicago PD (TV)
Genre: Alzheimer's Disease, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Euthanasia, Hank Voight Needs a Hug, Hurt Jay Halstead, Hurt No Comfort, Jay Halstead Whump, Memory Loss, Mental Health Issues, Mercy Killing, Paranoia, Parent Hank Voight, Terminal Illnesses, no happy ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-03
Updated: 2021-03-03
Packaged: 2021-03-15 19:07:42
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,235
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29813037
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pebblesong7/pseuds/Pebblesong7
Summary: Voight can only watch as Jay slowly falls apart.
Relationships: Jay Halstead & Hank Voight
Series: Bad things happen bingo [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2184204
Comments: 7
Kudos: 22





	Nothing left to pay

**Author's Note:**

> warning: this fic is very dark and covers some dark subject matter such as human euthanasia and Alzheimers. It is partially based on real experiences and real emotions, please take care if you are going to read this.

It started with small things, you wouldn’t even notice them until you thought back later. An odd word forgotten here or there, misplacing an item or two, nothing you wouldn’t dismiss as normal. It wasn’t until it began to get more severe that Voight realised there may be a problem.

He had noticed that Jay was a little more on edge. He knew that most people would dismiss it as just Jay being Jay, after all it wasn’t like he didn’t have occasional bouts of irritability. He was in his office when Jay had a particularly bad moment. 

“Hey Ruze did you get the uhh… the um… the phone records?”  
“Yeah, I left a copy on your desk”  
“Thanks man.” It wasn’t unusual until a few minutes later.  
“Hey uh… Ruze, did you get the phone records?” 

None of the team were stupid, they knew something wasn’t quite right, but still Jay would insist he was fine. Voight disagreed of course, and on a few occasions he tried to pry further, but he satisfied himself with Jay’s response that it was just some personal issues. He knew he would regret that dismissal for the rest of his life. 

When they were on a case, Jay nearly got himself and Hailey killed by rushing into the scene with no back-up and barely a bullet between them. Afterwards he apologised sincerely, and Voight truly believed that he hadn't meant to do it. But still, he kept a closer eye on the young man. 

Finally, the signals became too strong to ignore. 

Voight trudged up the stairs, feet still heavy from sleep. He hadn't been able to get to bed at a reasonable time for the last three days, haunted by the drug case they were working on. He couldn’t rest whilst there was some monster out there who had murdered four teenage girls for nothing more than his own demented pleasure. He was shocked when he rounded the corner and saw Jay pacing between his desk and the board. The man didn’t give any indication that he was aware of Voight’s entrance, and the older man got a good look at his expression. 

Jay was pale and sweating, he looked thinner than usual too if Hank wasn’t mistaken. His face was scrunched up, deep in thought, only interrupted by sudden jumps as though at a noise, followed by more anxious pacing. Voight let out a soft cough.

Jay flinched, before visibly relaxing his tensed posture. Voight didn’t want to challenge him, so he tried to ease the man into conversation.   
“Hey kid, you’re in early.” Jay nodded before, nostrils flaring, he continued his pacing. “Is everything alright Jay?” The man froze, hand tapping rhythmically against his thigh.   
“I think I'm being followed.” Voight would be lying if he said he wasn’t concerned.  
“Ok, you’re safe in here, now can you tell me what's going on?”  
“Someone is moving things in my house, and I think I might have been drugged. I-I came home last night and then I just-just woke… it was like I woke up and I can't remember anything.” Tears were brimming in his eyes, Hank didn’t think he had ever seen that before.   
“Alright, is anything missing from your house?” Jay shook his head. “Did you see any way that someone could have got in?”   
“No there’s nothing.” There was no warning for the sudden change in mood before Jay swiped his pens off the desk. His breathing was rapid and harsh and his hands trembled with frustration. 

If he wasn’t concerned before, he certainly was now. Hank had known Jay for a long time now, he had seen the man less stressed after standing in front of a firing squad. After their conversation, Voight went with Jay to his apartment. Jay warned him to be quiet as Will was sleeping in the next room. When they entered Jay’s room Hank was stunned. Clothing was thrown haphazardly across the floor, plates and cups dotted across every surface, some broken others not. The mirror above the cabinet was shattered, rivulets of dried blood splattered across the surface. Jay didn’t seem to react to any of the mess, in fact he snapped at Voight sharply when he attempted to lift what looked like the pages of a book off the floor.   
“No, that needs to be there.” Voight simply nodded and backed away. When they left, Voight had gone to pick up his keyes when he saw that Will’s room was empty. 

Jay had been confused and upset when they rolled up at the hospital, despite Voight’s attempts to keep the man calm. It was only Hank claiming that it was for the sake of a case that allowed him to entice Jay into the ER. Fortunately, Will was on call and when he saw Jay his face dropped. Not in a look of shock but almost complete resignation. 

“Early onset alzheimers? You can't be serious!” Hank imagined that he mirrored Will’s pale and aghast expression. Dr Charles just nodded, eyes sympathetic as he delivered the bad news.   
“There’s some more tests we can do but I don’t think you’ll get another answer.” Voight wondered if he was going to pass out. Jay just stared at Charles like he was speaking another language. His voice cracked as he spoke.  
“There isn’t a cure.” It wasn’t a question, and Voight, in a very un-Voightlike move, pulled the kid into a hug. Jay didn’t pull away. 

The next few days passed in a very un-real way. Jay seemed more aware than he had been for weeks, and as desperately as Voight wanted to believe things would stay that way he knew they wouldn’t. They knew that they had to tell the others, there was no way that Jay could be a detective anymore. 

Jay had been silent for the entire exchange.  
“I know it’s hard but we can't keep this a secret. They care about you Jay, we all do, and we will be here for you until the end. And that could be years from now, decades even.” Jay just shook his head solemnly.   
“I can't do this for years.” Voight raised an eyebrow. “I can't do this. I know I should be brave or whatever but I can't just… fade away and accept it. When my mum died she tried so hard to hold on but she wasn’t… she wasn’t her anymore.” Tears slipped down his cheeks. “Please, I would rather just… die quickly.” Voight could feel a wail of despair building in his chest.  
“Jay, you can't think like that.”  
“That's the only way I can think. I might as well think whilst I still know how to. I know it’s not fair for me to say that to you, but I just… Can we not tell them just yet? I will tell them, I just can't now.” Against his better judgement, Hank agreed. 

Voight hated the idea of losing Jay, he couldn’t bear the thought of losing another son, not in such a cruel way. He intended to fight the man every step of the way until he got the phone call from Will that Jay wouldn’t be in the next day, that he had been seeing things that weren't there. Hank didn’t think he would ever forget the dreadful cries of fear and confusion in the background. After he put down the phone, he sat in silence and sobbed. He knew that he couldn’t force Jay to live like this anymore. 

“Jay, if you… if you need help then you call me.”  
“Sarge I can't ask you to-” he paused at a noise that Voight couldn’t hear. “-to do that.”  
“You aren’t asking, I'm offering.” Jay, for the first time in weeks, smiled. 

Eventually they had to break the news. The team knew that things haven't been right for a while, but they had been gracious enough to not ask. They deserved an answer. 

“Alzheimers? As in like… dementia?” It was a relief when Ruzek spoke, it made a nice change from the thick aura of horrified silence. Hailey looked like she was about to pass out, and Atwater was as still as a stone, the only sign he was even still alive was the occasional blink. Voight just nodded. Jay was sitting at his desk, not making eye contact with anyone. Even if he didn’t work here anymore, it was still his desk. Platt had figured it out early on, and Hank knew that she would never turn Jay away. 

With the team's help, Jay held on for a while longer. Voight wondered whether it was only for them. They hadn't told the team about their plan, not that Jay or Voight ever mentioned it either. Voight began to wonder whether maybe Jay had forgotten. 

Will ran himself ragged at home, made infinitely worse when Jay began to try to leave the apartment to find Mouse or whoever he had lost in the depths of Afghanistan. Voight and the team would help where they could, but it was hard. Hank was unsure who was more upset when Jay attacked Ruzek, believing that a stranger had broken into his home. Ruzek didn’t speak much for a few days after that. 

It had been six months since they got the diagnosis when Jay was finally able to slip his guards. He wasn’t anywhere he normally escaped to, and poor Will was frantic with terror. Every police officer in Chicago was on high alert, desperate to find their lost man. Even some of the public joined in the search, it really put the good that Jay had done into perspective. 

Ultimately, it was Voight who found him. It was late into the night by now, it had been almost a full day. They were at the graveyard, oddly beautiful covered in a light layer of snow, a beautiful contrast between the cold grey of the stones. Jay was knelt by a grave, marked by the name Ben Corson. Voight approached gently, not wanting to upset the man. 

“Hey kiddo, are you ok?”  
“They keep saying I killed him but I didn’t it was someone else. They k-k-killed hi-him.”  
“I know, I believe you Jay.”  
“Who? Are you one of them?”  
“No, no I'm not. I’m Hank Voight, we work together.” Jay turned to him at last, blinking away tears. He wasn’t shivering, despite the cold. His eyes were dull and desperate, his gaze wandering aimlessly before it landed on Hank.   
“Who are you?” Voight’s heart wrenched in his chest. Jay shuddered, and let out a low groan that could almost be a sob. “They think I killed him.” 

Voight edged forward, worried he may frighten the kid, but Jay didn’t seem aware of him, muttering quietly to himself. Eventually he was close enough to lay a hand softly across Halstead’s back. Jay almost leaned into the touch. “Who are you?”  
“My name is Hank, we work together.”  
“Oh… yes Hank I think I remember.” Now that he was closer Hank could see cuts and bruises littering his hands, blood matted his clothing. Jay looked into his eyes. “Who are you?” Tears were brimming again and Hank pulled him into a hug. He felt the rasping breaths turn into sobs against his chest. 

He remembered when he first met Jay. even then, he knew this kid would be something amazing someday, he had that spark in his eye. Jay, the brilliant detective, as quick as a whistle and as brave as a lion, or at least that’s what Antonio had told him. Voight soon found out that he was right. Jay stood beside him despite everything, even when he pushed the team away after Justin died and Erin left.

Back then he couldn’t imagine having any other man by his side. 

The man in front of him shuddered and writhed in his arms, trying to escape from monsters that weren't there. He wasn’t Jay anymore. 

Voight held the man close as he reached for the knife in his pocket. He considered using his gun but he knew if he did he couldn’t hold the man like this. Jay deserved better than that. Tears tracked down his face as he raised his hand slowly, pushing away the tremor that might ruin his aim. With well practiced precision, he made a quick slash into his boy’s neck. 

Jay jerked slightly, but he didn’t seem distressed. His struggles actually began to die down, whether from blood loss or exhaustion Voight didn’t know, but he held him close. Jay made a slight gurgling noise, and Voight could see the bright red spreading across the snow. Hank found his voice and repeated comforting words over and over, rubbing his hand gently up and down his boy’s back. 

He was unsure of how long they sat like that before Jay fell completely still, but Voight made no move to put him down. His own body now tremored, but he still held on. It could have been hours before he finally lowered Jay to the ground, closing his beautiful green eyes one last time. 

Despite the blood and mud that coated his clothing, Jay looked peaceful. The graveyard was silent except for the birds tweeting to alert them to the rising sun. Except there was no more them. The sun was just beginning to peak over the horizon.

Voight reached for his phone.


End file.
